


4Squared

by forestdivinity (ForestDivinity)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Breathplay, Choking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestDivinity/pseuds/forestdivinity
Summary: Klaus has hands around his wrists, a grip tight enough that they almost creak, but he's never minded a bit of edge to his play before.Crack turned smutty, porn turned emotional, Four x Four across two different Academies. What happens when an Umbrella and a Sparrow decide to fuck it out behind both their families backs? This happens.Enjoy.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Alphonso Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	4Squared

**Author's Note:**

> This is not good BDSM practise, this is not safe breathplay, please do not use this fic as a basis for kink in real life it will not go well. This is purely for fictional enjoyment! I hope you like.

Klaus has hands around his wrists, a grip tight enough that they almost creak, but he's never minded a bit of edge to his play before.

Not that most people would call this play, but Klaus Hargreeves has never been most people. He's a time traveller, a Vietnam vet, a man literally haunted by ghosts day in and day out. It sounds cliche, but normal has never really been in his vocabulary.

"What would your family say if they saw this..." He coos at the man above him, all strong jawline and dark eyes.

Maybe he has a type after all.

Alphonso laughs, a dark thing, smooth like velvet in the heavy air of the room. 

"I think the more important question would be, what would your family say, kitty-Klaus?"

"Oh the usual, 'how could you do this Klaus', 'we expected better of you Klaus', 'why are you always such a disappointment, Klaus'-"He chokes out a bitter laugh and rolls his eyes as his moves his hips in a well practised movement. Dark jeans brush against Alphonso's loose pants.

"You know what, talking about that shit is a boner killer-"

"Using the word boner is a mood killer." Alphonso squeezes tighter, and Klaus makes a sound that might have been a squawk if it hadn't got caught in his throat - he's not sure if the resulting sound is any less embarrassing though.

"Oh is it now, tough guy?"

"You just love to push buttons, don't you?"

"Just as much as you apparently love to push me... what's this now, the third time? Fourth? Starting to get into a habit." Alphonso bares his teeth and licks across them, this close Klaus can see how sharp they are, can see scars dotting over his lips.

It shouldn't be so attractive. 

"A bad one, by the sounds of it."

"Oh, baby, I'll be the best bad habit you've ever had." Klaus laughs, something tightening in his chest and then falling apart. This is wrong, a familiar little voice in the back of his mind whispers, but he brushes it away.

No drugs, no booze, no fighting with Diego - he's not a saint. And Ben isn't around anymore.

Not in the same way.

* * *

"That's the first thing out of your mouth I've believed."

"Are you complaining about my silver tongue?"

"Only when it's not on my cock." Alphonso leans in closer, his nose touching Klaus's, his mouth hovering close. It feels like a taunt and a promise all in one.

When he leans up, Alphonso pulls away. Taunt then, definitely a taunt.

"I should be beating the shit out of you, not sneaking you through the garden for some three am fuck."

"And yet here we are."

"I could still beat you-"

"Oh, are we getting into the dirty talk now babe?" Klaus coos and Alphonso rolls his eyes, uses his free hand to trace a pattern down Klaus's cheek, brush curls out of his face. It's not fair how no one ever goes with his flow, no one with an ounce of sense and a hint of good looks ever puts up with his shit.

It's not fair that Alphonso is showing him tenderness now. 

"If you want me to beat you, kitty-Klaus, all you have to do is ask."

"Not even gonna give me a kiss first?"

Klaus doesn't get a verbal reply; instead, he gets lips crashing into his own, a hand tangling in his hair. It's rough, teeth clashing once and then twice before Alphonso catches his bottom lip and bites down. He can't even be mad at the pain, not when it thrills him so much.

"Shit-"

He gasps out as Alphonso pulls back for air, only a second before he's being kissed again, pressed back into a bed that should have been his. It's not his now, someone else has claimed in, rolled in it, slept a dip into the mattress - it's the same but different.

He's tired of everything changing. 

The hand in his hair tugs his head up, and he meets a tongue, feels the heat in his body, another thrill Klaus finds himself chasing. He wants out of his clothes, maybe out of his body entirely, but for now, a little skin on skin contact would drown out the mess of goddamn feelings inside of him. 

Finally, they part again. Klaus can feel the bruise of his lips already starting to form. Alphonso is panting, and Klaus finds he is too like he's been running a marathon. Albeit running one slowly but-

"You look pretty like this-"

"Pretty is the best you could come up with?"

"I could say you look like an eager whore, would you like that better?"

"Still not the most creative but I'll take it." Alphonso laughs and then Klaus chokes out a laugh, a giggle really, and there are tears in his eyes, but he's not sure what from. 

"Well, you got a whore in your bed you know there's only one thing to do, bad boy..."

He murmurs once he's gotten a hold of himself again, rolling his fingers out and cracking his wrists - Klaus is sure there's going to be a circle of purple bruises like lavender across his skin tomorrow. A badge of conquest, a little reminder to tide him over to the next time.

If there's a next time.

Little girl on a bike, Klaus always wishes there's the next time. That's the thing about an addictive personality - once he's had a taste of something he just can't stop. 

* * *

"You're so impatient."

"I prefer to call it eager." Klaus winked and the next thing he knows there are hands on his chest, sliding up under the lacy thing that he liked to call a shirt. It was more holes than fabric, done up in black and purple trim.

A finger brushed over his nipple and Klaus breathed out the echo of sigh, let that pleasure run through him too.

"Eager, huh?" Alphonso whispers, somewhere close to his ear, close enough that Klaus could feel the heat of his breath, the way it blew warm and damp against his skin.

"Very..." He murmurs, reaching up to tangle his hands in dark hair, wondering just when the sunlight will start to filter through the window. 

"Well, why don't you prove it to me then, kitty-Klaus?" Alphonso all but coos and bites down again, all sharp teeth and cruel, exciting intentions. Klaus can't stop the moan that bubbles out of his mouth, it escapes his mouth in a drawn-out sound that fills the room.

"If that's what you want babe-" He finds himself murmuring, the lines feel like sugar on his tongue, something sweet and easy to dissolve. Klaus can speak them like any practised whore - he is one after all. Since he was a teenager, these words have been in his mouth, trading one part of himself to lose another.

Carefully, he slides his way up onto his knees, and Alphonso follows him, until they're both balancing on the bed, almost chest to chest. 

"Steady on big boy..." Klaus murmurs, hooks his fingers under the thin grey fabric of his sleep shirt - it's a tragically bit of dull clothing, not something Klaus would be caught dead in. All the more reason to drag it up.

Alphonso is broad-shouldered, not Luther broad but built nonetheless. His skin is revealed; Klaus traces his hands over the expanse of them and feels scars beneath his thumbs. He tells himself not to linger, not draw attention, but he can't help wanting to count each one and find out where they came from.

Slowly, he draws a breath in. The air is thick as Klaus leans in, presses a kiss to Alphonso's collarbone and then traces his tongue down towards his nipple. 

* * *

"Fuck Klaus-" Alphonso breathes out, and his voice is deep, heavy with desire, it ignites the fire burning within Klaus, encourages him to keep going.

When he tightens his lips and sucks, Klaus feels Alphonso jerk a little, press their hips together. He stays like that for a moment, taking his time, saliva pooling between them.

And then, there's a hand in his hair, dragging his head back, slow but firm. Klaus blinks slowly, lazy like a cat - he's been compared to a cat before, a feral one roaming the streets, but a cat nonetheless, the comparison seems apt now.

"You think you're cute, kitty-Klaus? Do you like being a tease?" That voice growls bounces around his head, and Klaus can't help but smirk, try to tilt against the grip that's got him held tight.

Alphonso's fingers tighten, twist curls around until it edges into pain and makes colour bleed into Klaus's vision.

"I think I'm rather good at teasing, actually. I have plenty of practice." He intends it to come out sultry, but he's more breathless than he realises. From above him, there's a laugh, Alphonso shaking him just a little.

"You know, it's lucky you're pretty. It would be a shame if I broke you too soon." Alphonso's hand slides from his hair and cups the back of his neck - he's got big hands, and Klaus knows he's got a package to match.

Big hands mean that Alphonso's thumb rests against his jaw; Klaus can't help but wonder how many men have died by that hand, felt those long digits before their life ended.

"I'd like to see you try." He murmurs, all confidence and bravado and for a good reason too - people have been trying to break him since he was eight years old, curled up in a mausoleum with only ghosts for company. No one's succeeded yet.

Or Reggie did the job right the first time, and he's simply never put himself back together.

It seems the more likely option.

* * *

"I'm sure I'd find a way to take you apart, pretty boy. I'm an expert after all." Klaus knows he should be scared, that's a threat and a promise and a revelation all in one, but he's flying high on lust.

He brushes it off instead.

"You haven't done much to prove it yet, babe. At least give me a taste if you're gonna threaten me with a good time." 

He's pushing the limits now, trying to stretch one thing out into another - it's not like he's never been beaten and fucked, or fucked and beaten before. Sometimes he even likes it.

"Careful what you ask for," Alphonso warns him, cool-toned as his grip tightens, and then Klaus is being pushed back into the mattress again.

And then there are hands on his hips, splayed wide, squeezing down. Any tighter and he'd bruise, but the pressure is just hinting at the pain for now. He spreads his legs, aiming for sultry but maybe just landing on slutty. Either way, it has an effect, Alphonso groans and starts to twist at the button, the zipper of Klaus's jeans.

"Say..." Alphonso starts as he all but peels Klaus's jeans off his legs, revealing milky skin to the room's dim light. The undressing part of sex always feels awkward, slowing down the pace of things.

"Say what?"

"Say, what do you call a sexy fuck up with daddy issues?" Alphonso says, quick and as biting as any whip.

"Well I don't know, jokester-" Klaus starts and then squawks as his legs are roughly pushed apart so that a body broader than his own can settle between them. Now, he's only in his underwear, something black and silky and almost tighter than his jeans; with the way his dick is straining the fabric, Klaus is surprised it hasn't ripped.

"You call him..." That body cages his own as Alphonso rolls his hips, and unfairly sinuous movement for a body as muscled as his happens to be, and Klaus bites back a groan of pleasure, just to be contrary.

"You call him, Number Four." Alphonso pulls back and winks, that same filthy smirk on his face. 

Klaus laughs. Laughs louder than he should and for a bit longer than is really appropriate. He can't help it, it's fucking funny. 

Sexy fuck up with daddy issues certainly sums them both up, from what Klaus has seen. 

* * *

"We are certainly the hottest of a bad bunch." He says with a coy grin, running a hand through his curls - they've gone frizzy with the heat and humidity of the room. His mind feels the same way, all buzzed out with excitement and desire.

"Only about to get hotter," Alphonso promises him.

"You keep talking and not doing, I notice, are you nervous or something?" 

"I don't get nervous." Alphonso bites back, and Klaus wonders if he's hit a nerve, found a sensitive little spot. He could push and pull at it, spend hours unravelling that piece of information, but, he reminds himself, Alphonso isn't one of his siblings.

Running his mouth could result in more than a punch or a knife past his face here.

"Well then let's get on with the show." He keeps his voice light, a fun tease rather than a cruel one, and presses his body up, pushes them together again. 

Both of them groan, worked up and hard. Klaus can feel a sticky spot in the front of his panties, wet with precum. 

"Don't worry kitty-Klaus, I'll take care of you." Alphonso's hand slides down, pulls the fabric away with it. It's almost shameful, how fast his dick pops out, practically smacking against the smooth expanse of his stomach. 

"God-" Klaus can't help but groan. Really, it's the wrong time to be thinking about her, but it slips out anyway, and it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like Alphonso realises what the word means.

"You're getting distracted with my hand by your dick? I thought better of you." Alphonso tuts, sliding a finger up the hard length of Klaus's cock before swiping his thumb over the head. It comes away glistening with precum, and Klaus gives him a smile - it's shakier than he intends.

"Fuck no, just, thinking 'bout the main event." 

"You wanna be fucked, hm?"

"Always."

* * *

Alphonso laughs, softer this time, as he wraps his hand around Klaus's cock and begins to stroke. It's slow at first, the pressure light, the type of teasing that has Klaus rolling his hips up before he can think better.

"Uh-uh, if you're gonna be distracted we can go at my pace." There's tutting from above him as Alphonso pulls his hand away, leaves Klaus hard and desperate and bare before his gaze.

"Fuck, you asshole."

"No, I'm gonna be fucking your asshole, kitty-Klaus." Klaus groans at the pun, he groans at the arousal that it sends through his body. Slowly, he stretches out his whole body before trying to lay still.

"At least strip off, babe. Lemme see all of you." He murmurs, once he's got himself under some semblance of control. Maybe his grip on said control is shaky at best, but it's better than nothing. After all, he never claimed to be stable.

"You gonna ask nicely?"

"Do I look like the type of man who asks nicely?" 

"No, you're the type of _boy_ who likes getting his own way, but I'm not going to do what you want if you're rude to me." Those words make Klaus want to bristle, they should make his hackles rise up, make him remind Alphonso who exactly is older here, except-

Except he's always liked the idea of being someone's _boy_ , with all the subtext, it implies. Not that he's Alphonso's boy, not that he belongs to anyone, not that anyone wants to keep him. 

It's just a little, unfillable fantasy.

So, he lets himself breathe deep, all hungry and eager, lets his eyes open dark and wide, instead of getting himself annoyed over something he knows he likes.

"Will you please strip off for me, _Number Four_ , sir..." He whispers, keeping his voice just on the edge of breathless. 

Alphonso's eyes darken, Klaus can see it even in the room's lousy lighting, can see the way his chest rattles as he draws in air. Maybe Alphonso has figured him out, all the little kinks and nuances Klaus likes when using sex as his next best coping mechanism, but Klaus can give as good as he gets. He's been scanning a mark since he was a teenage (young, too young) he knows what words to say, how to play himself up to make a more attractive deal.

* * *

"Well, seeing as you asked politely this time..." Alphonso murmurs, and Klaus hides his smirk behind a lick of his lips, fluttering his eyelashes like some sort of shy virgin. 

It doesn't take long, Alphonso is only wearing joggers, something loose and worn to sleep in. Klaus was able to see his dick even before it started getting hard - sweatpants do nothing to hide that outline.

Said outline only looks better when it's fully revealed. Alphonso's thighs are as scarred as the rest of his body, pale lines that cross over his skin, skin that covers thick cords of muscle - Klaus wonders if he's a runner. He's certainly got the glutes for it.

Alphonso takes his own cock in his hand for a moment, pumps it once and then twice, and Klaus can't help but groan as he watches. He can't tell if he wants it in his mouth or in his ass. Both, probably, but it's hard to tell what he'd like more.

"Mm, you look like you're gonna start drooling, kitty-Klaus." Alphonso murmurs and Klaus can't help the slight flush that he feels come across his cheeks.

"Over that thing?" He puts his voice high and prim, and Alphonso laughs, rolls his eyes.

"Don't act like you don't want it, _boy_."

* * *

It's annoying, and fucking arousing, because Klaus does want it, he wants to be filled and fucked and all those pretty f words, and he wants Alphonso to be the one to do it.

There are plenty of men out there with decent cocks who were okay at sex but finding someone spectacular was always a struggle. As much as it pained him to admit it, Alphonso was spectacular.

"You're a dick-"

"Mm, maybe, but I'm the dick you want, so why don't you come over here and give me a kiss." Alphonso sits back on his heels, spreads his legs a little, and Klaus can tell that he's not talking about a kiss to the lips. It's phrased like a suggestion, but Klaus can tell an order when he hears one. Worst, he wants to obey.

He hates that part of himself, loves it too.

"Asshole." He mutters under his breath, but he crawls forwards anyway, dips his head down. This close, he can smell the faint musk of Alphonso's skin, just slipping through the scent of clean soap. 

It's not until he pokes his tongue out to have a little taste, that Alphonso all but snaps his head back, making him choke on his own breath, sending pleasure all the way through his already sensitised body.

"You've got a nasty mouth on you tonight, kitty-Klaus, it's almost like you want me to hurt you."

Dark eyes peer into his own blown pupils, and Klaus curses himself for being so transparent, so easy to read. Maybe it's just Alphonso, maybe Alphonso can see himself in Klaus, the way Klaus can see himself in his not-quite-a-doppelganger.

They're the same, they're different, they're linked now through their father and the fucked up bonds of time and space.

Death is a familiar friend of them both.

He finds his mouth full of saliva and swallows to try and empty it. Alphonso is silent as he watches, planning his next move. Klaus is reminded of how lions watch their prey; decide which one is easiest to pick off and hunt.

Something is thrilling about being the weakest link.

"If you want me to hurt you, baby, all you have to do is ask," Alphonso whispers after a moment, and the cruellest part is that he doesn't even sound mean at that moment, that there's some underlying affection in his words.

Klaus presses his tongue up against his teeth.

Asking for what he wants has never been easy. Demanding, manipulating, just plain taking is easy, it's deception and sleight of hand and distracting a target without ever being seen himself - Klaus is good at all those things. 

He stopped asking for things at eight years old. Mostly.

* * *

"I..."

"Cat got your tongue, kitty-Klaus? C'mon, don't tell me you've lost your voice now." 

"Fuck you, Alphie." Klaus spits out, just to be annoying as if he pushes enough he can get his own way.

Unfortunately, Alphonso just snorts at him, shaking him lightly by his hair. God, even that send prickles of heat through him, the pinpoints of pain making him _want_.

"Getting your claws out won't get you what you want, I'll just put you in timeout." The sheer amount of laughter in his voice makes Klaus bare his teeth - it's not an incredibly intimidating expression at the moment when he's all but drunk on arousal.

"You're such a fucking prick, just-"

"Just what?"

"Fucking hurt me-" Klaus chokes the words out as if his body doesn't want him to say them, as if something in his throat is doing it's very best to keep them quiet.

"That's better-" Alphonso murmurs, sickly sweet.

And then-

And then there's a hand coming down across his face, hard enough it sends his head flinging to the side. Hard enough even, that the pain doesn't register at first, just the sudden stars in his eyes, the spinning, dizzy feeling in his head. 

Klaus groans when the pain finally comes in presses his tongue into his cheek.

That's gonna bruise.

* * *

"Fuck-" He breathes out slowly, once assuring himself that all of his teeth are still in place, and can't help but shift, squeezing his thighs together.

"There we go kitty-Klaus. Now, why don't you show me how thankful you are?"

_For one slap?_ Klaus wants to say, but he doesn't because honestly, he wants his mouth on Alphonso's cock and he wants it now. So instead he just flutters his eyelashes and bows his head again, a little too eagerly. This time when he pokes his tongue out, Alphonso lets him move in close.

He licks a long, wet stripe across the underside, traces the vein there with the very tip of his tongue all the way up from the base. Alphonso groans and tangles his hand once more into his curls, but he doesn't pull or direct yet, just lets it rest there.

A reminder and a warning all in one; Klaus feels himself shiver.

His mind feels dreamy and hyperfocused. On his tongue is a familiar taste, sweat and sex mingling together. It puts a buzzing throughout his whole body. 

"I'm very thankful, _Number Four_." He murmurs, before sucking the head into his mouth with a practised move.

It's hot, already slightly damp from precum. The clear fluid is vaguely salty, and Klaus hates how much he craves more of that taste, the feeling of sex filling his mouth.

Still, he takes it slow - as slow as he can bear. He's rushed through sex enough times in the past to know that the foreplay is as important as the main event. Not to mention, he's got a talented mouth, and he knows it, Alphonso deserves the full experience.

Klaus gives a lazy suck, curling his tongue around the tip, he doesn't bother trying to take the rest in his hands, after all, he knows Alphonso's type. 

Greedy, strict, desperate for control. Almost relatable, if Klaus had the desire to Dom more than once a year. Mostly, he prefers being taken out of his head, being brought down until he manages to shake the shadows away.

"Don't get distracted, _boy_." Alphonso tugs his hair and Klaus blinks away his half-formed thoughts, curses his brain for never shutting up. It feels like he's always going a thousand miles a minute, never able to sit and focus for very long.

"Mm-" He hums around Alphonso's cock, swipes the tip of his tongue over the little slit in it before sucking more into his mouth, swallowing around it. It's thick enough that Klaus can already tell it's going to leave an ache in his jaw.

Another ache in his jaw.

He loves that. Hates it in equal measure. 

Klaus wants to remember every dirty little detail, have the pain to lean on when he's not in the throes of some dirty, thrilling escapade. It's just a shame that it always leaves him with a pool of humiliation in his stomach, that sick feeling that makes him wash and wash but never feel clean.

Alphonso tugs again, softer this time and Klaus curses himself internally, gives a harder suck and forgets about going slow.

He's got to do a good job after all.

Quicker than he should, he begins to bob his head, urging Alphonso's cock deeper into his mouth. It's wet and messy, he can feel drool bubbling up, leaking down over his chin as he forces himself not to choke - not yet anyway.

"Fuck, Klaus, shit-" 

* * *

It's a good sign. Klaus lets the feeling of pleasing someone wash over him, slide into all the little cracks that make up his body. He's more broken than pieces nowadays, but it's fine - he's still pretty after all.

A roll of Alphonso's hips has his cock edging deeper, brushing at the back of his throat in a way that makes Klaus gag, his eyes watering, his cheeks flushed red. He does his breath to suck air in through his nose the way he knows best, but it's hard when he's so aroused he thinks his dick might fall off.

"That's it Klaus, _boy_ , you're doing good, just a little more-" Alphonso is surprisingly gentle; or if not gentle, he at least takes his time. He's not rushing his way through this.

Klaus isn't sure what he'd prefer. 

Still, he takes what he's given, does his best to suck and swallow the way he knows men like. It leaves him breathless, struggling to breathe around the cock that's filling every inch of his mouth, forcing his throat open like he's nothing more than a toy to be used.

Maybe that's all he is.

He gags loudly as Alphonso pushes his head down, rubs the underside of his cock with his tongue as if he's begging - for release or for more, his desires are all uncertain. Klaus squeezes his eyes shut, a roaring in his ears as his chest tightens, heart pounding loud enough that he can feel it in his wrists.

And then, in a harsh movement, everything is gone.

When Alphonso moves back he wants to chase him, keep that cock buried in his mouth but he's held firmly in place, panting and wet with spit. Klaus finds himself blinking away the stars in his eyes as he coughs, unable to do much more than hang against the hand, gripping his hair. 

"Ngh, fuck, Alp-Alphonso, shit..." Klaus is all but incoherent as he speaks, his voice thick, not hoarse yet.

Getting there, though.

"I wanna fuck your face properly, kitty-Klaus," Alphonso says after a moment, dark eyes peering down at Klaus. He looks contemplative and hungry as a beast. As if he'll take what he wants, whatever Klaus says unless he's very lucky.

The thought makes him shiver, pulsing at the back of his spine and making its way out to the very tips of his fingers, the ends of his toes.

"Fuck-"

"You like that idea, _boy_? You're a slut, aren't you?"

"And proud to be one, baby-" Klaus blinks again and gives him a proud smile, licking his lips. No use being intimidated, it was better to outmanoeuvre a hungry lion than try to take him head-on.

Not that Klaus had any desire to try and escape. 

"I know you are, after all, you want to be choked on my cock." It's a statement, but it's a question as well. An offer and an order all wrapped up in one.

Klaus swallows around the emptiness in his throat and then nods.

"Come on, kitty-Klaus, you can do better than that. At least beg me for it." It's not often something makes him blush, but Klaus feels heat tinging his cheeks red now and he's not even sure why - he's begged to suck cock before without much hassle.

Now, the words seem stuck. He wonders where he lost them.

"Fuck, I... I want to suck your cock-"

"No, baby, you were sucking my cock before. Now you want me to throat fuck you until you choke." Alphonso's voice is deep but deceptively sweet as he leans a little closer, wipes his wet cock across the forming bruise on his face. "Say it kitty-Klaus."

* * *

"You fuck... Fucking ass-"

"This is what you wanted, _boy_ , so unless you want to leave, I'd suggest you start doing as your told." Alphonso hisses, smearing precum over his face and lips, giving Klaus a taste but nothing more. It has his heart rate rising, a staccato beating in his chest.

Fast and thrilling, he wonders if this is how a hummingbird feels, hovering in the air.

"Just, just choke me on your cock-" Klaus gets out between gritted teeth, and he gets a short, derisive snort for his attempt, a hand dragging his head back again. 

"Do better, Number Four," Alphonso tells him, and it has something inside of Klaus cracking, an old familiar part of himself crying out for acceptance, to have finally pleased someone. Himself, his siblings, his father? He's not sure.

For so long he wanted to improve, when it became apparent that his best would never be good enough, he'd given up. Now he had another chance, the childish part of his brain whispered, now he could prove himself. He didn't have to be the worst.

His jaw wobbles, and he swallows the lump in his throat, tells himself his eyes are only stinging because Alphonso's grip is starting to really hurt.

"Please, fuck, please choke me on your cock, I need it, I need you to fuck my face until I'm sobbing, Alphonso baby please, fuck my face like you mean it, c'mon use me please-"

* * *

The words tumble out of his mouth, one after the other, barely pausing for breath between each begging cry. Fuck, and he's crying, saying please too many times like he's back among stone and ash and grave dirt. All the signals seem to be muddled, he's not sure which way he's meant to be going even though the light is blinking green, green, green in front of him.

Or blue. 

He's shoved back unceremoniously until his back is against the bedboard until he all but cracks his skull on the wall.

Two hands, familiar, awful, wonderful hands wrap into his hair and drag his face forwards, down.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely, Number Four," Alphonso's voice seems so very far away, "open up your mouth, and I'll give you what you want so badly."

Klaus parts his lips before the rational part of his brain even has a chance to catch up, his tongue pokes out stupidly. 

"Pretty," Alphonso murmurs before rolling his hips forwards, slowly and then all at once, like he doesn't know how to stop. The wet, slick precum head of his cock rubs over Klaus's tongue, stains it with the taste of him. Klaus is reminded of poison and of relief all in one.

It doesn't stop there, it slides in deeper, and Klaus can't help but whine around it, scrabbling to clutch at the sheets to stop himself pushing Alphonso away on instinct - he'd asked for this after all.

"Fuck, look at you, feels so fucking good, gonna use this pretty mouth, claim it as mine-"

Alphonso drags his head down, and Klaus is glad that he's trapped between thick thighs and the bedframe, else he might have overbalanced completely. His lips ache, split open by the thick length of Alphonso's cock.

"That's right, choke on it _boy._ " The head grinds against his soft palate, insistent and unyielding and Klaus can't help the choked, gagging sound that escapes him. It's humiliating and arousing all in one.

"Thought you'd be better than this at sucking dick, Number Four, I thought you were experienced-" Alphonso keeps talking, a running commentary as Klaus tries to rock back, rock forward, do something, anything at all. Everything feels overwhelming, and Klaus has no control. It's perfect, he wants Alphonso to ruin him, to take every broken little piece of him and turn it to dust.

Wear him down, the way the ocean wears down the sand. Maybe he can become glass afterwards, if he's made hot enough, burnt enough times.

Alphonso tightens his grip on Klaus's hair when Klaus hollows out his cheeks, doing his best to suck. It's sloppy, drool leaking down his chin the way tears spill down his cheeks, but it's so fucking good that Klaus couldn't ask for anything more. Beneath his tongue, he finds the same thick vein he'd lovingly traced, and he rubs the muscle against it, listens to how it makes Alphonso groan.

Klaus realises with a start that Alphonso is barely halfway in and everything already feels hot, and wet, and tight. He wants more, wants to be deprived of everything but the cock, wants Alphonso to fuck him until he's owned.

The thoughts he has in his lust-driven mind, terrify him sometimes.

* * *

"Is that good kitty-Klaus, Number Four? You like having my cock down your throat, reminding you of what you're good for?" Klaus looks up, dark eyes glossy with tears and something akin to adoration - or it would be if Klaus thought he could feel that again.

Lust filled infatuation must be enough because Alphonso groans his hips stutter just a little in Klaus's mouth.

Only a little though.

And then the bruising grip on his hair drags Klaus forwards again, bending him at an unnatural angle - thank god for yoga, Klaus thinks - as a throaty growl leaves Alphonso. Klaus chokes, gags like he's never sucked cock before in his life as Alphonso forces his way into his throat proper. There's something about being filled that way that has him whining, has him seeing those familiar stars behind his eyes.

Every human instinct he has should have him trying to escape, trying to pull away, but Klaus doesn't. He can't. He needs this more than he needs air.

Evidently, this pleases Alphonso.

"Yeah Klaus, you like this, you fucking love it don't you? Pretty little cock hungry whore, addicted to being used as much as you were addicted to using, aren't you?"

His voice is simpering, almost sweet in contrast to the cruel words that have Klaus wanting to sob.

Alphonso jerks his hips again, slides another precious inch deep and then goes still, holds Klaus there just to feel him convulse and gag. It's a powerplay, and one that has Klaus losing his goddamn mind, all but tearing holes in the sheets.

When he's dragged off, he heaves for air, his chest rattling like he's been smoking for hours. Alphonso watches him as he coughs and sputters and then smirks, wiping away a few tears with the edge of his thumb.

"Oh kitty-Klaus, I'm not done with you yet." He whispers, licking at Klaus's bruised lips.

"Good," Klaus says, voice hoarse and barely sounding like his own.

Alphonso doesn't thrust back in straight away, he gives Klaus his time, takes the moments to run his fingers over Klaus's face, down his jaw and throat until they're resting over his Adam's apple. There are marks across his neck, not visible from a distance, hard to see even up close, but there none the less. The faintest scars from a torture that seems like a lifetime ago.

"Someone hurt you..." Alphonso murmurs and Klaus wants to snort, roll his eyes or something. Instead, he just breathes in, slow and restless.

"Lots of people hurt me." He says after a moment, and Alphonso hums sits back up onto his knees.

"I'm gonna hurt you too, Klaus." He replies, and it doesn't sound like a threat or a promise. It just sounds sad.

Very sad. Klaus can't handle that.

"Then get on with it-"

* * *

"So impatient." Alphonso's voice is deep, his fingers wrap around Klaus's throat and squeeze a little, make him gasp for breath. Klaus feels filthy, a mess of tears and drool.

Alphonso rubs his cock over his chin again, just adding to the mess there, smearing it across his face.

"You want me back in you baby? You want my cock that bad, kitty-Klaus?" He's asking, and Klaus tries his very best to nod, but it's hard with a hand around his throat and arousal thrumming through his body. Alphonso teases him, scratches nails across his skin, and it feels like striking a match, leaving faint lines across the pale expanse of his throat.

Then he shifts, cock rest against Klaus's lips and he lets out a whine, something close to begging again. Klaus is fucking desperate, his hips twitching against the air, cock hard enough that it hurts.

"Too bad, _boy_ , I get to decide when you choke on my cock."

Alphonso's voice is a hiss as he lets go of Klaus's throat and shoves his hips closer until Klaus's lips are pressed up against his balls, smearing precum all across his face, in his hair, sticky in his eyebrows. The scent of him is most pungent here, musky and raw like sex itself and Klaus finds himself pushing his tongue out, licking across the skin there without even being asked.

Right now, he feels like he's being split open to reveal the dirty, rotten core of himself and Klaus can't help but be scared of himself - afraid of just how deep he can go. How deep he'd let Alphonso push him when his head is stuffed full of cotton.

If Ben were here-

If Ben were here, he'd be begging Klaus to leave, but Ben isn't here anymore.

Klaus opens his mouth wider, willingly, when Alphonso grinds down, encourages him to suck the sweat from his skin like he's got no choice in the matter. Maybe Klaus doesn't have a choice. He sucks anyway, eagerly, getting Alphonso shiny with slick, his own eyes dark and glassy.

"That's it kitty-Klaus, such a good tongue, putting it to use-" Alphonso groans and grips his hair as Klaus pants for breath.

When he gets dragged back up again, it's not a surprise. Alphonso's cock is flushed deep red, looking painfully hard. Swift and strict, he grips Klaus's jaw tight, forcing his mouth open, tongue poking out. Klaus makes a sound that might have been a moan if it hadn't gotten stuck somewhere in his throat and looks up at Alphonso, thoroughly debauched. His breath comes heavy, messy hair sticking up in wild curls, mouth a perfect cherry red.

The perfect picture of a whore.

* * *

"Such a slut-" The words come out more breathless than he thinks Alphonso intended. Even so, a violent shiver of need goes through Klaus when Alphonso releases his jaw to thrust back inside.

It's rough, one thrust after another without any chance to catch his breath. Soon, Klaus is sobbing from the sheer overstimulation, the desperate need to escape, his desire for more, more, _more._

Alphonso waits until he's choking before reaching down and pinching his nose shut and Klaus wonders if he's going to die here. His body feels like a live wire, his throat clenching around Alphonso's cock as he writhes, instinctively trying to escape.

"You better swallow up, kitty-Klaus." Is all Alphonso manages to grind out before he spills down Klaus's throat, hot and sticky and oh so familiar. Klaus's nose is released as Alphonso rolls his hips, the sound of him groaning filling the room, and Klaus swallows like a starving man like there's nothing he needs more than the taste of Alphonso on his tongue.

Despite his best efforts, pearly white fluid drips out from the corners of his mouth, and it's not Klaus's fault really because there just seems to be so much and he's still cross-eyed from lack of air but-

It's not his fault, but Alphonso still growls when he pulls away to see the messy trails down Klaus's chin, thumb swiping through the path as if to clean him up. As soon as his mouth is empty, it's filled again, this time with the thick digit that rubs across his cheeks.

"I said, swallow." Alphonso hisses and Klaus sobs but does as ordered, sucks around Alphonso's thumb like it's his last lifeline like a starving man might eat.

His head throbs and his cock throbs with it, everything is overwhelming, the lights too bright, the air too heavy. Klaus's hips stutter back and forth in aborted movements, desperately trying to get some sort of friction against the sheets, against anything at all.

One Alphonso's thumb is clean he tugs it out, dries it across Klaus's forehead with an impassive hum.

* * *

For a moment, the room is silent, bar Klaus's panting. And then:

"Please... Alphonso please-" He finds himself begging after a few long minutes where he's stared at, watched and inspected like some sort of experiment under Alphonso's gaze. It reminds him of their father, it reminds him of his place. Klaus's voice is hoarse and faint, having been all but fucked out of him.

"Hmm..." Alphonso draws the sound out, leans back and licks his lips, "I don't know if you deserve it, kitty-Klaus..."

"I need it, fuck please, I was good, c'mon Four, sir, Alphonso please-" All of a sudden, Klaus can't stop the words pouring out of his mouth. He's aching for it, practically broken into pieces by his own need. Something inside him, an animal made of his twisted desires, claws, and Klaus feels it like a pain between his ribs and his stomach beginning.

"Touch yourself, Klaus. Slowly now," Alphonso tells him when Klaus looks up with his eyes all wide and pupils blown into black holes. 

Klaus wraps a hand around his cock and almost sobs from the relief of it, he has to force his hand still before he can even think of going slowly. His muscles feel coiled, springs ready to launch at any moment. Truthfully, he's always prided himself on his stamina, his ability to please, but now he's not sure how much longer he can hold on.

His control is slipping through his fingers, well-lubed by his own precum dripping like a faucet from his cock.

"That's it, pretty boy, go on, show me how good you look with your hand around your cock. Such a whore." Alphonso's voice is barely an echo in his ears, but one he has to obey anyway. Klaus rolls his hands into his own grip and groans - Alphonso's room must be soundproofed too because otherwise, he's sure they'd have been interrupted by now.

"Please Four... Alphonso I need-" 

"I know what you need, kitty-Klaus, you'll get there. Make yourself cum for me then, don't hold back." 

It's all the permission he needs, and he's thankful for it too because Klaus isn't sure how much more he could take. With a groan, he speeds his hand up, relishes in the drag of it across his cock, the way his palm feels against the sensitive head.

"Close, I'm close-" 

"Fucking cum, Klaus," Alphonso hisses, and it throws him over the edge. That order, the desire in his voice. Klaus sobs as he cums over his hand, almost silent bar the choked back noise in his throat. Any other time he might have screamed, but now he feels wrung out, can't even make himself moan.

Stars of white erupt behind his eyelids as he coats his own fingers before all the tension drains from his body. Even as he slumps back against the wall, he's shaking.

"There we go..." Alphonso murmurs and takes Klaus into his arms while Klaus draws in shaky breaths, tries to calm himself. 

* * *

Even as he relaxes, the world is hazy. It's like he's seeing through a prism. Like he's been left underwater and is watching up from the bottom of the pool.

Alphonso wipes his face with carelessly gentle hands and runs his fingers through Klaus's curls until they fluff out like a deep halo. He should be surprised when a glass is pressed up against his lip when bite-sized squares of chocolate are fed to him, but his emotions are so very far away that all he can feel is safe, warm, cared for.

It's not fair. 

It's not fair he has to give this up, not fair that it feels so good. _Run now,_ the Ben that only lives in his head says, but Klaus can't feel his legs, let alone get the motivation to move.

Alphonso is quiet, lets Klaus curl into his side as his pretty eyes slip shut.

"Rest now." He tells Klaus, and he lets out a soft sound of agreement, utterly boneless against Alphonso. Through everything, he can't find it in himself to say a word, which is surprising for him. 

He should leave, he knows it. Instead, he closes his eyes and lets himself float in that soft, hazy space that he so rarely gets to experience. He'll wake up before the morning, Klaus tells himself, leave through the window like he was never here in the first place.

He'll be quiet and go with the night, like a ghost.

He always does.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and Kudos if you like!! You can follow me on [@forestdivinity](https://forestdivinity.tumblr.com/) for more content!
> 
> Join the [Elliot's House discord](https://discord.gg/dGg2Tb) to chat!


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